As The Fates Would Have It
by Annelim
Summary: Soon after his birth, Klaus's mother invokes an old tradition.
1. Klaus

The sun slowly set over Schloss Eberbach on the 18th of May, 1952. Cristina von dem Eberbach, née Birchwast, was still wobbly on her legs after having given birth only three days prior. The delivery had been streneous. Her little mouse had taken 16 hours to make his appearance. Well, he had not been so little, actually: he had weighed in at a full 4 kilos, a healthy baby in every way and all that a mother could hope for. They had agreed that his middle name would be Heinz, after his about-to-burst-from-pride father, but no first name had yet been deemed worthy.

Normally Cristina would have stayed bed-bound for a few days longer, to regain her strength while the women of the house waited on her. The latter would also have arranged everything that must be done in preparation for this particular night. That was the custom in her native part of the land. Alas, South-western Germany didn't share the same traditions. Nor did she have any kin with her, as the war had left her stranded far from home. She had been exceptionally lucky with Heinz, kind man that he was, who had taken her in and later married her. He had handled all her problems expertly - except for this one, which she couldn't share with him. It was a woman thing. Back home the men were aware of the tradition, but wisely stayed away rather than to risk doing something wrong and bringing down the wrath of all females in the family on them.

So, left to her own devices, she had instructed the family butler - Conrad was more like a friend, she felt, always so eager to assist and simplify her life - to bring her the necessary objects. He hadn't questioned her requests. Not that they were all that demanding. In a household such as the very wealthy von dem Eberbach one, with the large castle and the old collection of art and furniture, it couldn't have been difficult to locate the objects she had asked for. That had been yesterday, when she had decided to go through with what the tradition demanded. Traditions were important. This morning the chef had baked according to her instructions and now, in the evening, she herself had arranged everything just like her great-grandmother had instructed her: the mirrors, the candy apples and the chairs, all in front of her little mouse's crib.

She stood above him, looking down. Her precious angel was blessedly asleep and simply the cutest thing she had ever seen. "Stay asleep," she whispered to him. "Mama must stay away from you for a few hours now, so please don't scream. Be a good boy, mama's good little mouse, and just sleep."

His tiny little fist twitched and his eyes moved beneath the thin eyelids. She stood there for a few seconds longer, before sighing in pleasure at the miracle before her. Then she pulled her heavy shawl tighter and left the nursery. She didn't go far, though, just to the little annex, where she would sit in wait for the break of dawn.

** D/K ** D/K ** D/K **

No noise had been heard, yet the baby's eyes - still a clear, vibrant blue so close to his birth - opened. They didn't focus, but they did happen to look in the right direction. The first sister laughed. Her chuckle wound around the room, seeming to bounce off any metallic object.

"See, it is as if he sensed our arrival. Hello, little one. What was it your mother called you?"

"Mouse," said the second sister. She smiled indulgently.

"Klaus," said the third, her stern tone indicating that she found the nickname previously used less than amusing. "They will name him Klaus."

"That's pretty," said the first. "Oooh - see! His mother left us pressies!" She flopped down on the white chair and lifted the gold-framed mirror, looking into it with obvious delight.

The second sister, slightly older than the first, sat down in a more mature fashion. She did look admiringly at the artfully decorated silver mirror, but instead lifted the apple-shaped candy that also lay before the red chair. The treat was lifted to her nose and she sniffed twice before nibbling. "Oh!" she then exclaimed. "It's tart, but not overwhelmingly sharp. Perfect, really."

Her younger sister snatched up her own apple candy and took a big bite. "Mine is sweet, like wild strawberries straight off the field. I love it!"

"Mine will be salty," said the third sister, who had yet to sit down in the black chair left to her. She sounded slightly disdainful.

"Oh, do sit down," said the second sister and pulled at the third's gown.

The third sister sat. She glanced into the bronze mirror, just once, then pocketed both it and the third treat.

For a moment, the three sat in silence as they watched the baby. The little boy appeared to stare defiantly back at them. Then the first sister sighed. "It was many years since the last time we were called."

"Called correctly, anyway," said the second sister. "His mother's father would have been the last one, I think. What did we give him, again? I gave him charm, I believe."

"Ease of joy," said the first.

"Logical thinking," said the third.

"Good gifts, yes ... And before him it was well over 30 years since the last one. I do fear that sweet little mousie here might be our last visit." She looked slyly towards the third sister, who merely shrugged.

"Oh, no, that would be so sad!" said the first sister. "I do so enjoy these visits and to keep track of our boys and see what the world makes of them."

The third sister leaned forward and - while the two others watched her in tense silence - studied the baby in the crib. Eternity could have passed, but finally she leaned back again and turned towards her siblings. "Yes," she said.

"Yes?" the second sister repeated, not quite daring to hope. "You mean ...?"

The third sister nodded. "I am willing," she said. "Since this will be one of our last visits, we shall make the most of it."

"Yes!" said the first sister and clapped her hands. "Oh yes, please!"

"Yes," the third sister said again, her voice serious. "Let us do the three times three invocation. Let us strengthen him and bless him and curse him. Let us make one more hero, like the heros of old: a man who will walk unbent and who instead will bend the earth to his will."

"Yes," said the second sister, confirming that all three were in agreement.

As was their custom, the first sister, the youngest one, started. She reached into the cradle and gently pushed down the blankets to give them access to the small body within. The baby grumbled at the change in temperature, but he didn't scream, not even when she placed her hands on his feet and lightly ran her palms up and down his short legs to prepare them for strength.

"Though you will face great difficulties, little one, you will succeed in everything you put your mind to."

Once the first had sat back the second sister leaned forwards. She chucked the young gentleman under his chin, causing him to make the first loud noise they had heard from him so far, a distinct grump of dissatisfaction over having been touched with such impudence. The second sister laughed merrily. Then she touched his hands and rubbed up and down his arms. "Though you will never get along easily with people, mouse, you will be a great leader of men."

Finally it was the third sister's turn. She looked at the baby for a few seconds, then touched his temples before dragging her fingers, spider light, over his eyes and nose and mouth - and then down to rest briefly over his chest and heart. "You will have good reason not to trust lightly, Klaus, but the love between you and your soul mate will be legend."

Intrigued, the other sisters hummed at this. They were not used to their sterner third giving such blessings concerning matters of the heart. Tragedy and ruin were usually more to her liking.

Then the third sister leaned back as well. All three sat, waiting with endless patience for the threads they had just spun into existence to be entered into the loom. When reality had changed accordingly, they simultanously rose.

"It's a shame, though," Urd said slowly, "that whoever his beloved is, she won't be in his league. It was many centuries since we had ourselves a love couple."

"I think," said Verdandi, who was wiser in the ways of the heart, "that we would have looked at an Alexander/Hephaistion-type of love match, my dear. Apart from that trifling detail, I couldn't agree with you more. Nothing warms this world as a love couple on the loose to scorch the pages of history with their passion."

Skuld snorted. "I said that their love will be legend, did I not? Do you doubt my power after all these years? And did I say that this would be our last visit? No. We will be called at least once more. By accident rather than by design might be, but call us the mother will, nevertheless, on a summer night's eve in Britannia. Our Klaus will walk this earth a hero - but he will not walk it alone."

The End


	2. Dorian

Bonny ran. Fast, fast, fast - as fast as his legs could carry him. It was difficult, though, 'cause he was crying and couldn't really see where he was going. Luckily, he'd lived in the huge house all his life - the entire five years of it - and could find his way to the nursery nevertheless. He had been there many times before - hiding there from The Horrible Three, or trailing his mother when she was cleaning.

After wiping away tears and snot with the back of his free hand, Bonny finally saw the nursery. He made one last dash, reached his goal and snuck inside. Panting hard he leaned against the door, listening to hear if the girls still pursued him. He heard nothing. Perhaps he had lost them.

Wiping off more snot he looked around. He had always liked this room a lot, with the warm red and gold tones and the huge paintings and the window with a frame wide enough for him to sit on. Bonny's Mum often lifted him up and let him sit there while she dusted. On the opposite wall hung a line with baby pictures: all the previous Red boys since forever and ever. Bonny liked looking at them. Almost all of them were blond with blue eyes and almost all of them were pretty.

Of course, none of them was as pretty as Baby!

Reverently, Bonny tip-toed towards the cradle. He dumped his burden on a close-by table, then he could finally wrap his chubby fists around the nicely carved bars and look down at Baby. He sniffled slightly, then sighed happily.

No baby anywhere had ever been as pretty as Baby!

Baby was sleeping, so Bonny knew he must be quiet. He felt a little disappointed, though, for he had hoped Baby would be awake, so Bonny could have seen Baby's beautiful, blue eyes. Of course, had Baby been awake then his Nanny wouldn't have been down in the kitchen, having a cuppa with Bonny's Mum. Bonny didn't like that she left Baby alone. What if Baby woke up and was scared?

But Baby slept. Bonny stood stock still, just looking. He couldn't grasp that anything could be so small and so pretty.

Baby must be the prettiest thing in the entire world!

Certainly lots and lots prettier than Baby's stupid _sisters_. Bonny remembered what the biggest of the Horrible Three had called him and his eyes began to water again, even if Bonny's Mum said that a big boy of five shouldn't cry. The biggest of the Horrible Three had called him _Porky_ and then all of them had called him Porky and they had laughed and pointed at him!

"Porky, Porky, Porky! Pink piggy Porky eats until he pukes!"

Bonny wiped away more tears, trying so very hard not to let the hurtful words interrupt his rare alone time with Baby.

Baby, who would _never_ call anyone Porky!

If Baby had been awake, Bonny would have told Baby everything. Baby would have understood. Baby would have liked Bonny's Revenge! Pleased with at least that part of his day, Bonny looked towards the table and smiled, even if his lower lip trembled slightly. Then something made a sound. Bonny hurried over to the door and pressed his ear against the polished wood. Yes, he heard another sound! Knowing very well that he would get into trouble, perhaps even spanked, if he was found alone - again - in the nursery (no matter if he'd disturbed Baby or not), Bonny rushed towards the second door, the one leading to Baby's Nanny's room. That door was never locked, Baby's Nanny would go to the nursery first, not to her room. So Bonny went inside, closed the door and squeezed in under the bed.

Hopefully Baby's Nanny would just look at Baby and then go back to Bonny's Mum in the kitchen. And then Bonny could go back into the nursery and spend some more time looking at Baby.

** D/K ** D/K ** D/K **

"A loyal young man," said Urd when she stepped out of a shadow. "It appears that Mouse's little sweetheart has already made his first conquest."

"Most protective," was Skuld's verdict.

"Reliable," Verdandi agreed. "Almost a shame we couldn't visit him too."

"True," Skuld replied with a curt nod. "But most humans do perfectly well without us. And the boy was right - little Lord Charming here will never be as base as to call him Porky."

"Oh, it's just a little puppy fat," said Verdandi and smiled affectionately. "I thought he looked very cute. Enough now. So, this is our Mouse's sweetie?"

They gathered by the cradle to look at the intended. Baby still slept.

"I will say," Urd continued after a minute or two, "that if it hadn't been for our Mouse, I'm not sure I would have agreed to go."

Skuld nodded. "This calling is ill planned. If not for the boy, it wouldn't have been a calling at all."

A black armchair, a white rocking chair and a small wooden stool in red-painted wood were indeed present in the room, but only with a little goodwill could they be said to have been placed before the cradle, as tradition demanded. On a nearby table lay The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, as well as a small, green crystal bowl with assorted sweets. The bowl actually held well over a dozen sweets, but, yes - a sweet, a tart and a salty one could be found among the lot. As far as the gifts for the Norns, there was young Bonny's spoil of the day - sneaked from his tormentors, The Horrible Three, and utterly forgotten when the youngster had feared to be discovered. Three necklaces - yellow, white and red gold - one from each girl.

"I agree," said Verdandi, "but we said we would make a love couple, didn't we? Coochie-coochie-coo. Wakie, wakie, little one. We want to look at those baby blue eyes of yours. My, they really _are_ blue, aren't they? Hello, sweetie."

Baby opened said eyes and lazily turned his head in the direction of the sounds, likely in search for nourishment or attention.

The three sisters sat down - Urd after first having pulled the rocking chair considerably closer to the cradle. Each took the appropriate sweet from the bowl, but none elected to actually eat hers, instead putting them in various pockets. Skuld also put away her necklace and Urd put hers on, while Verdandi still held hers, letting the supple metal fall from hand to hand.

"I'll start then," said Urd. "Ah ... if we are still in agreement?"

"For Mouse, yes."

Skuld merely nodded.

Urd stood and leaned over the richly decorated cradle. "Oh, but you are such a cute little one," she then had to say. "Mouse is going to have his hands full with you."

Skuld coughed meaningfully.

"Yes, yes, I was just saying." She leaned further and bestowed a feather-light caress to Baby's cheek. "You will be a real charmer, able to get anyone to do anything you want. Ah ... Except Mouse, of course."

When Urd started to back away, Verdandi muttered. "I wouldn't call that much of a curse."

"Well, I'm not sure - are we doing a love couple or another hero? I'm always a little confused when they're both men."

"Not a hero, I think," said Skuld. "So go lightly on the curses. But not too grand blessings either."

"Quite. Well, I'll balance it then. You won't get along well with women, little Lord Handsome. There - that should do it, don't you think? I mean, women do make up half the population."

"I don't think he'll have much need for them," said Verdandi as her sister sat down. Just then, Baby began to cry, loudly. "So I think that'll work out just fine." She got up and took the space by the cradle. "Why are you crying, little one? Here, look at this. Shiny, pretty thingy, isn't it? Do you- Oh!"

Baby had swung his little hand and managed to grab the necklace. Verdandi laughed. "Liked that, did you? No, no, no, you have to let go now, young man. There, let go. Oh, you know what you like and what you like you'll make yours, won't you? That's the spirit, young man, but now let go of Auntie Verdandi's necklace. You won't be able to have everything you want, you know." Finally she managed to pry the chubby little hand off the necklace without harming the boy. "Where was I?"

"Oh, I think you've already done your part, sister dear," said Urd. "Quite a prediction too, I say. I don't think I've heard you give such a blessing since Alexander the Great. So we _are_ doing the hero bit?"

"No," said Skuld, with determination. "Sit down, Verdandi. I'll handle this."

With a quick pat to Baby's chest, Verdandi - blushing faintly - sat back down. Skuld rose. For a long while she stood by the cradle, studying the child. When Baby began to wave his little fists around and scream, she smiled thinly.

"Attention. That is what you need, little one; what you crave." She let a cool fingertip touch Baby's forehead. "What you want the most are the things that will hurt you the most. You will pay dearly for them. But in the end, my boy, Klaus's love for you will be worth any sacrifice."

And all three Norns smiled.


End file.
